


make this house a home

by Menacherie



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Curtain Fic, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:19:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menacherie/pseuds/Menacherie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick buys the house, Brandon decorates the house, Andy makes it home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	make this house a home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mistress_shiny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistress_shiny/gifts).



“I bought a house,” Nick says. 

Brandon hadn’t been paying as much attention to the conversation as he thought, because he drops the shirt he was folding and turns to look at his laptop. Andy falls off his bed with a squawk, so maybe it wasn’t just Brandon. 

“What.” Brandon says. 

“I bought a house?” Nick says again, this time sounding less sure of himself. 

“Like, you got an inspector out and you paid actual money and signed on the dotted line?” Brandon asks. 

“Well, I didn’t need an inspector, it’s a brand new build in the suburbs,” Nick tells them. Brandon looks at his laptop and notices Nick is chewing his thumbnail. 

“Where!” Andy yelps, getting back into the conversation when he crawls back onto his bed. The camera wobbles while he does so and it makes Brandon the slightest bit dizzy. 

“Uh, well. I wanted a place for the three of us,” Nick says, and scratches his chin. “So I sort of looked for the mid point for all three of us? And did you know that Columbus is literally right in the middle of New York and Chicago?” he asks. 

Brandon’s heart starts beating a little faster. “You didn’t,” he says. 

Nick shrugs and Brandon’s eyes skip over to Andy, who isn’t looking at the screen, but something off of it. “Andy, did you know Nick was doing something this stupid?” 

Andy looks back at the laptop with a smirk. “Please, like he comes to me when he does stupid shit,” he says. 

Brandon looks back at Nick. “What the fuck, where is it?” 

“I don’t have the keys yet and stuff,” Nick says. “I got them mailed to both your apartments.” 

“Fucking Ohio though?” Andy asks, finally settling down “I guess it makes sense,” he says, a little quieter than usual. 

“See Nick, Shawzer thinks it makes sense,” Brandon says desperately. 

“Hey! I make sense sometimes!” Andy says. 

“You put dish detergent in the dishwasher last week,” Brandon reminds him.  
“They are both dishwashing liquids, how was I supposed to know the difference okay? God!” Andy’s sentence is slightly muffled when he ducks his head into his pillow. 

“Babe,” Brandon says. 

“We can’t all be house keeping savants,” he tells Brandon. 

Nick snorts in laughter and then lets his eyes go wide. “Oh shit, Brandon you’re gonna have to decorate, there isn’t anything there!” 

“Oh my god, that’s why you got it in Columbus!” Andy crows. “You didn’t wanna decorate!!!” Andy starts laughing, making his laptop shake again and Brandon shakes his head.

“You are a shitty decorator,” Brandon says. 

“Whatever,” Nick says with a sniff and rolls his eyes. “You can spend your money decorating it since I bought the thing.” 

“You’re so kind,” Brandon says with a laugh. 

\--

The thing is, Brandon thinks when he finally manages to stop by the house on an off day. The thing is, it’s the perfect house. It’s a gated community, which Shawzer always said they were really pretentious, but he’s famous, he can’t really say anything about being pretentious now. Their driveway is huge, enough for all three of their various cars with room for more if they are having a party or something. (And plenty of room for kids to play street hockey, Brandon’s traitorous heart whispers). 

It’s also on a cul-de-sac, Brandon’s parents had a house on a cul-de-sac and he always said he wanted one like that. 

_you’re a dork that listens too much_ , he texts Nick, his heart warm with something. He takes pictures for Andy and his mom. 

The house is a nice blue, with darker blue shutters and a white trim. It’s the kind of house that he sees on HGTV all the time, the sort that people fall in love with. 

His footsteps echo in the foyer, quickly muffled when he takes his shoes off. They’ll need a shoe rack, even though he knows Nick and Andy won’t use it. The paint is a non-offensive eggshell blue, but he knows he’s going to be changing that up soon. 

His phone rings while he’s inspecting the granite countertops and he answers it. “Please tell me the fixtures aren’t gold or some shit,” Andy says over the phone. 

“You know Nick better than that babe,” he says, turning on the sink. “They’re steel.” 

“Granite?” 

“Yeah,” Brandon says, turning the sink off and snapping a picture of the countertops.

“Shit, those are nice,” Andy says. 

“Yeah, the driveway is huge,” Brandon tells him, slipping into the living room. There’s a space for the huge TV Andy is going to want for Halo, and Nick for football games. There are sliding glass doors that lead to the backyard and Brandon whines. 

“Hell, the backyard is massive,” he tells Andy. 

“Bigger tha-”

“Shut up,” Brandon mumbles, his face coloring even though no one is there to hear the end of Andy’s joke. 

Andy snickers, and Brandon heads back inside and up the stairs. There are a few smaller bedrooms, one with a jack-and-jill bathroom in it. Brandon hums a little and heads up to the third floor, where a large loft is. Down the hall is the master suite, and it’s huge. It feels like it’s own house. There is more than enough room for a California King, and a seating area. The bathroom in the master suite is massive, the bathtub big enough to be a pool for someone like Andy. 

He snaps a picture of the tub and sends it to Andy with the caption _pool time!!_

 _stfu_ , he gets in reply. 

He calls Andy, then adds Nick to the call. “What colors were you thinking for the master?” 

“I don’t know,” Nick says with a sigh. “That’s why you’re the decorator babe,” he says. 

Andy laughs. “Neon Orange,” he says. “Oh no, no! Neon Green!” 

“And that’s why Andy isn’t,” Nick says, while Andy giggles in the background. Brandon smiles. “What about blue,” he suggests.

“What, no, red!” Andy says, sounding much more serious now.

“Red is an angry color,” Brandon says. It also reminds him of blood, and the Blackhawks. 

“Well, I mean,” Nick says. “Red is our color,” he says quietly. 

Brandon looks around the room, thinks about maybe a red accent instead of a red theme. “Maybe as an accent color,” he says. “We could do a dark cream color with red accents.” 

“So the room doesn’t look like I bled all over it,” Andy says cheerfully. 

“Exactly,” Brandon says with a sigh.

\--

Two days later Nick calls him in a panic. “Andy got traded,” he says breathlessly. 

Brandon goes cold. “Shit,” he hisses, and he knocks over a million paint swatches when he reaches for his laptop to book a flight to Chicago. 

“I’m headed for the airport,” Nick says. 

“Yeah,” Brandon agrees, and then pauses. Brandon will be a mess, trying to go over there and comfort Andy when he’s barely put together himself after the season he’s had. “Wait, bring him here, bring him to the house,” he says. 

“What?” Nick asks. 

Brandon wanted to wait until it was finished to show it off, but he knows Andy, knows how frantic he’ll get with energy. “You two can help me paint,” he says, and he idly discards the cream and red accents. Red is too painful now. Even if it’s what brought them together. 

“Where?” he asks quietly, before Nick can agree. 

“Montreal,” Nick whispers. 

Brandon squeezes his eyes shut. Tries to think of someone who will look out for Andy in fucking Montreal. “Shit.” he says. 

“Yeah,” Nick agrees. 

“Bring him home,” is all Brandon says, pulling up the blue color palettes he had been eyeing for the guest bedrooms. 

“Yessir,” Nick says, and Brandon manages a smile before he hangs up. 

_< 3_ he sends Andy, knowing words won’t be appreciated right now. 

\--

Andy and Nick land in Columbus, beards thick and unkempt. Andy looks wild around the eyes, but even his usual energy has been sapped dry. “I knew,” he blurts out, when he sees Brandon. 

Brandon shushes him and tugs him into a hug. They’re in Columbus, half the people here don’t know Brandon and more than half don’t know Nick or Andy. Andy’s nails dig into his shoulders and he hitches out a sob before taking a deep breath and pulling back. 

“Let’s go. I have pillows,” he says, motioning over to the luggage rack. 

“Pillows?” 

“Yeah, jersey pillows.” 

“Jersey pillows?” 

“Yeah, our juniors stuff, I got your moms to send me shirts that weren’t too fucked up and made them into pillows. Well, I paid someone to make them into pillows.” 

Brandon opens and closes his mouth and looks over at Nick who is bent over laughing 

“For the house?” 

“No for the shed,” Andy says, grabbing one of his bags and motioning at the other ones. Brandon catches one on autopilot, and Nick catches the other two. “Yes for the house dumbass.” 

Brandon laughs, loud and bright and puts the bag down so he could pull Andy in. “I’ve missed you,” he says. 

“Then let’s get to the house, please tell me you got a huge ass TV,” Andy says. 

“80 inches, not that you’ll be watching, I’ve got you on paint duty,” Brandon says as he picks up Andy’s bag. 

Andy gasps dramatically and shakes his head. 

\--

Later, they’re all paint splattered and red faced as they troup up stairs to the third floor. “Babe,” Andy says dramatically by the time they get there. “When we are old and shit we are gonna need an elevator.” 

Nick giggles, the light green paint splatters around his eyes bringing out the green in his eyes. Brandon sighs and swipes at the green marks. “We’re a mess,” he says lightly, when he just ends up smearing blue paint into the green marks. 

They’re sweaty and gross and covered in paint, but Andy flops out on the bed anyways. He stretches out and then wraps himself around Brandon like an octopus when Brandon crawls into bed. 

“At least take your jeans off,” Nick says, shimmying out of his own. Brandon groans in exhaustion. 

“You’ll complain all night if you don’t,” Andy mumbles against his neck. Brandon sighs and slips his jeans off and throws them into the corner. Andy squirms against his back, doing the same. 

Nick looks at both of their jeans and deliberately folds his up. “Dork,” Andy giggles. 

“Some of us don’t like wrinkles,” Nick says, and slips in on the other side of Brandon. He thought maybe Andy’s trade would outwin his dislike of being in the middle, but he should know better. 

“Dork,” Andy sings out, and then gently gnaws on Brandon’s shirt. He dutifully turns over and presses a kiss to Andy’s forehead. “Goodnight,” he whispers to Andy. 

“Goodnight doofus,” Andy whispers back. 

“Goodnight,” Nick whispers. Brandon can feel him stretch out to turn the lights off before curling back up against Brandon. 

The room is dark and Brandon sighs. 

“I didn’t want you guys to feel sorry for me,” Andy whispers into Brandon’s chest. 

“Babe,” Brandon blurts out, but Andy squeezes his arm and shakes his head. “I just, I knew it was inevitable, I mean if they could trade you, then they could trade me.” 

Brandon hisses, remembers feeling so blindsighted that it was a physical thing. 

“I knew it was coming, I just, it still hit me like a train wreck,” Andy lets out a sob and Nick crawls out of bed so he can crawl back in on the other side. He wraps himself around Andy and presses kisses to his neck. 

“It’s okay,” Nick whispers. 

Brandon kisses his tears away and lets him squirm in close. “It doesn’t matter where you are, you’re playing hockey babe, and we’ve got you no matter what colors you’re wearing, or who you’re playing with.”

“We’re your team,” Nick says, finding Brandon’s hand in the dark. 

Andy lets out a snuffle and pulls them both closer like a blanket. 

“Can my pillows go in the living room?” 

“Oh my god,” Brandon hisses, then deflates. “Yes.” he says. 

Nick bursts into laughter and he can feel Andy’s grin against his collarbone.


End file.
